now I know

now I know

why junkies stick needles

in their arms

and lie dying

in back street alleys;

now I know

why death comes

before the body

actually dies;

now I know

what Christ felt;

now I know

where people go

when there is

nothing left;

now I know

just how black

the darkness of the night

can be;

now I know

just how deep

the bottom

really is;

now I know;

and the needle,

and the powder,

and the shots of whiskey,

and death,

only make it

legitimate;

now I know;

and have lived

to tell about it.

.

.